Positivity

 I've lost my positivity, I've noticed, as I look back here. I'm sorry.

Cate was always the me who did the different things, who pushed boundaries, who walked along the line of 'not normal' that I was always being told I should be closer to.

I don't deal well with the push backs... which is why Cate was perfect. But now I see that Cate's being subjected to the pushbacks that I didn't cope well with. And not surprisingly, I'm still not doing well with it! LOL! 

I've curled into my shell and packed up. Not a great attitude for someone who wants to change the world, hey?

CATE, GET YOUR ACT TOGETHER!

Small steps to make changes, that's the way to go for me.

Here's my positive for the day:

I cleaned up a bean bag fom the local river over the last couple of days. I saw it there, torn, with those little styrofoam balls falling out. I went home for garbage bags but underestimated the number required. So after a couple of trips I've now got the bag and 95% of the balls removed. 

Those tiny balls! OMG, they're so hard to pick up and put in a bag! They're electrostatically charged and have a mind of their own. They cling to the plastic rubbish bag, then leap away. They coat themselves in sand and vanish. I was like a crazy person trying to deal with them. So they're still mostly there, and I hope to go back again and have another attempt at collecting more of them.

Here are 2 of the 3 garbage bags required to get the bulk of it removed.

The best thing about this: I live in such a great place, that there is always someone doing a task like this, and I'm glad I got to have my turn tday. 

What's your positive story for the day/week/month/year?

Oh good grief!

 Where does time go? I popped on here and last time I was here was November. Holy cow!

I wish I could tell you that I had some great book news for you...but I don't. Sorry. Old books are on sale, a few words have tumbled from my brain, but mostly I'm still taking photos.

Here are some of the latest photos:

I sat at the beach on Saturday evening to see the moon rise. It wasn't quite full, but the night was perfect I thought. I'm glad I did because last night was clouds. Of course, these are in reverse order...but I'm out of practice doing posts :)

Hope you enjoy!

The almost full moon, later in the evening

Sunset and gum leaves

Sunset through the dune trees

The moon and ocean through the dunes

Moon, ocean, waves

A wave while I was waiting

The wind-blown sand, while I waited

A tern flies back with a feed

Seagulls flying into the setting sun

The setting sun through the grass on the dunes

Fearless Friday - photos

 Oh boy, it's been another huge break from here. I have no clue where the time vanishes to!

Here are some photos from yesterday...just so I can keep this blog going until I get myself writing again, or find words, or whatever is missing.

Onion weed flower

A bunch of onion weed flowers

Butterfly

Fish and their shadows in the river

A Little Tern caught dinner

A young Welcome Swallow keeps an eye on me

Another young Welcome Swallow

Pelican

Plane and contrail

Fearless Friday - societal conventions

When I went on a writing retreat... way back, months ago... I started another story in the Glebe Gannets series (Team Player was the first one, and so far the only one). This one is about an older woman and a young footy player. He doesn't fit society norms - and I don't wnat to give him a label. 

I've got a notebook filled with scribble, and last night I managed to sit and type some. I was thinking about societal standards and conventions when a Rugby League story ran across my twitter feed and got me thinking.

I grew up in a time when societal conventions were quite strongly adhered to - although they were breaking apart. I was someone who questioned all these stupid standards that stopped me doing things, so I've not been good at knowing what these standards are or caring too much about them. However, most of my family group and many friends, care deeply about them.

As I wrote this story, Ashton has no clue about standards and is questioning Angie all the time about "why?" His questioning makes her question too. So she's coming to realisations as she patiently explains things, and sees how silly her explanations become.

This is kind of where I think we are in a society too. There is a generation of youth who don't really understand or give a shit about convention. There are an older generation who hold dearly to convention and will die defending them. Then there's a bunch of us in the middle who have started dismantling, and can see both sides.

And back to the Rugby League story. A female Indigenous player made some social media posts (I haven't seen them) about the Queen's death that offended many people. She's been penalised for this. One journalist went so far as to call this 'the most reprehensible thing in Rugby League'. 

The most reprehensible thing? Lordy! After some of the things that have happened in rugby league, I think that's a ridiculous call. But anyway...I'm not going to delve into that.

I think this is a case where societal conventions are confused by social media. 

In the collective of society, the Queen's death has been mourned across the world, with the media saturation and perpetuation of the grief incredible.

If you're someone who ignores the media (as in news, commercial media, etc) and has social media as your point of reference, then the people who are in your social media 'group' are the ones you take your cues from. They're the ones who are setting your societal conventions, so to speak.

If your social media is curated to being only the things you're passionate about, believe in, and support - then you may have a different view of what's accepted in the wider community, than what the wider community sees.

I have a wide mix of people in my social media feeds and I skim it rather than devour it. So I see a lot of varying views. And I like that. I like to think about things from different perspectives, and develop my own thoughts (or open my mind to other ideas). There was a huge outpouring of grief for the death, but I also saw a lot of people who were not grieving at all and saw this as a time of change.

At present, the wider narrative is about the grief, sadness, loss and what a wonderful woman. The world media has ensured that. But what if your social feed was not showing that? How would you know?

Societal conventions are constructions that exist because it's a majority held belief. There is always going to be people opposing every convention (I think that's human nature). 

How do we deal with these people? In most cases, they're punished for not conforming.

I'm not sure that we should be dealing out punishment for non-conformity.

And that's where Angie and Ash's book lies... me treading a path of non-conformity, and wondering if I've gone too far! Maybe that's why I'm struggling to write.

Hmmmfff...I just hit myself in the face with that thought! That is most likely the case. Every idea I have at the moment is treading a fine line in non-conforming. I'm struggling with myself as to whether or not I should "go there". Huh!?!?! This is almost three years of mulling and I think I've finally seen what my 'unable to write' problem is. 

Fearless Friday needs to be Fearless every day.

Thanks for reading the thoughst of my rambling mind.

Cate xo

Chakra Birds

Last year, I put together a calendar for 2022 called Chakra Birds. It's not your normal calendar (but you wouldn't expect normal, would you?).

Each month, there's a bird to focus on, as well as a chakra energy point in your body. There's also a group where we're exploring different aspects of the bird, chakra, and energy.

So, for January, the bird is the Emu and our Chakra point is the Earth Star Chakra (which is not inside our body but is our connection to the earth). 

So we're looking at grounding, the incredible planet we live on, and emus and their weird characteristics that make them so adaptable across Australia.

If you'd like to join in on this weirdness, meet some birds, and journey through your Chakras through the year... grab yourself a calendar and join us. 

It's $18 for the calendar, $12.70 postage within Australia, and all the extras are free.

https://catherineevansauthor.com/product/2022-a3-chakra-bird-calendar/

And if you'd like to see more of the information involved, here's the page for April (Duck) and the Root Chakra.

Saturday Search - Lee Harris Energy

I've been a Lee Harris fan for a while now. His monthly energy updates were what hooked me first but now I'll listen to him anytime :)

Today he put out a song with a video clip that is incredibly beautiful, sensual and moving. I wanted to share it here; https://www.leeharrisenergy.com/all-who-walk

If you're moved by this, check out some of Lee Harris's other work. 

His partner, Steven Washington, does Qigong if you're looking for movement, energy shifting, and exercise. I've been enjoying that movement as well.

My search of all things spiritual began with a story, Past Lives, I wrote way back in 2009. I don't know where the story came from, but it poured out of me in random scenes that grew into a story. I took it to a writing course, and was told by a story editor that my premise was impossible. I'd written about past lives, where the gender shifted depending on which past life was written about. I decided I needed to learn about past lives, since I'd obviously ballsed up the whole concept.

I followed a rabbit hole into a realm that has changed my life. It began with a writing course on astrology and past life connections (when you look for something, sometimes it falls into your lap!). I did a few courses with Mary O'Gara and she taught me so much about writing and the alternate spiritual practices. 

I've kept following the flow. One course led to another. One person to another. All are connected to writing - which is the weirdest part! 

This journey has had fundamental changes to my life, health, focus and happiness. It's been the weirdest, longest, but most fulfilling rabbit hole I've ever fallen into!

Have you followed rabbit holes? Do you find things out-of-the-blue that are perfectly what you need?

A Bigger Picture and Fear

If you've been reading my mad ramblings for a while, you'll probably know I've been on some spiritual path for a while. I stumbled into it to write a story and haven't untangled myself, or the story, yet! So this is a post about how the most unlikely book can stir up things inside me.

I picked up Malcolm Turnbull's book, A Bigger Picture. If you're not Australian, he was a recent Prime Minister of Australia and has been in politics for quite a time. I'm not usually into biography/ autobiography/ memoir because I often feel like a voyeur while reading and it makes me uncomfortable. However, I saw an interview with him about the book and the political issues he claimed to discuss in the book made me sit up and take notice.

Politics frustrates the hell out of me because most of the time I think they're all idiots who are only after their own agendas and have no 'public service' in their mind. They speak in language that says nothing yet uses lots of key or buzz words. They're masters at not answering a question. But... I'm not going to go on or I may not stop!

To pick up this book was not my usual mode. However, I loved reading it. It's exceptionally well-written. Turnbull is brutally honest in his opinions. He sheds lights on things that I didn't quite understand from the media reports and the events in politics. It's an absolutely fascinating read. I'm not sure that everything occurred exactly as he states, but I'm certain he believes what he has written. It's so brutally honest, raw, and opinionated. And no one has spoken of suing him - that makes me more convinced that it contains a lot of fact, evidence behind the scenes, and truth.

In reading this, I began to understand the far right of the Liberal party and the way they act. This was particularly relevant when he spoke of Tony Abbot's time as Prime Minister and some of the world events that occurred. It also dove-tailed into an awakening I had when listening to Tony Birch speak at the Wollongong Writers Festival in November 2019, which I mentioned at the end of this post (http://www.cateellink.com/2020/02/sunday-story-white-girl.html).

Fear. Bullying. Loudly stated opinions as fact. Not allowing change. Believing they are right. Illogical arguments. Picking fights.

These seemed to be the things that Turnbull and Birch identified as being traits of the Far Right.

I recognise these things but I've often overlapped them with the 'patriarchy' because I hadn't consciously noticed that they were different things. In my mind, the Far Right are men. But that's not true. Which is quite a realisation for me.

I spoke to Mr E of all of this. And I said something like, "There's so many of these Far Right people, they're stopping things happening." He's a strange man to discuss things with because when he doesn't agree with me, there's this stony silence, which is what I came across. "Aren't they everywhere?" I asked. "You're telling the story," was his reply, which is code for, "I think you're bloody insane."

So, this put me back on my haunches. If he didn't see these crazy loud people, everywhere, bombastically shoving their opinion down everyone's throat, why did I?

I've always maintained that I refuse to live in fear. I've pushed myself to do things to overcome my fears. And this is for adventure activities like sky diving, but also the every day things like ringing up tradespeople, making appointments, talking to strangers.

But why did these things make me fearful? Mr E didn't seem to have these things as a 'fear' just an every day thing. Why were we different?

In some instances, I think there is a gender issue. In others, a country vs city upbringing can account for things. Age may account for a few too. But there were still a lot of things that weren't accounted for by these differences.

I had to look at my upbringing, the people who surrounded me while I was growing up and growing into adulthood. I had to look at myself too, and how I stood in these circles.

I don't like loud noises - and looking at a couple of youngsters in my family, this may not just be a me thing. So I'm sensitive to people shouting. I notice them. I keep away from them. In a way, I fear them because they hurt my ear drums. And as a child you can't ask someone to keep their voice down because you have no power. You suck it up or get away...but it enforces your powerlessness.

The Catholic Church revolves around fear. If you do this, you'll go to hell. No forgiveness and you won't get to heaven. So many rule breakings have dire consequences. Punishment, repentance, sin, these are all huge factors in the teachings of the Church. Love, kindness, care are also present but seem to have much less focus and a much softer touch. Plus, in my early years, very few sermons spoke of love; fire and brimstone were far more loud, powerful, scary. Plus...how much of the symbolism in the Catholic Church is themed in violence and barbaric acts - the stations of the cross, the crucifixion, the fact that the Crucifixion image is displayed front and centre of every Church in all it's horror. I understand that the crucifixion is supposed to symbolise sacrifice, but holy heck, the Christ in my Church was vivid with his spear wound, bloody harrowed face, crown of thorns piercing his scalp, nails in hands and feet, knee broken. Thsi wasn't sacrifice, this was barbaric violence. I know there are other images of love, and the whole Mother Mary is about love, but what sort of balance does it have to a child? For me, the violence and the horror is what comes first to mind - even now.

I've spoken before about my grandfather having Labor party affiliation...but also that he hated the left (Communism), and I wonder how far to the right were his beliefs. The older men in my extended family were those who believed they ruled the roost, and some of these men were violent (but so were a lot of men in Australia, particularly those of English/Irish heritage). I didn't see this violence, but I wonder if I picked up on it. I did hear stories of this - but I don't know how old I was when I heard them, certainly while I lived at home.

I worked in a male dominated industry where a lot of men shouted loudly to be heard, to force their opinions onto others, to make sure they had power. I don't have a loud voice, but if I said something they disagreed with, they'd just start talking over me to drown me out. My refusal to live in fear, often made me try to express my views, but I rarely succeeded except by being sneaky (e.g. only speaking at events without their presence).

And when I start unteasing all of that, I saw why I believed there are so many of the Far Right affecting the world - because they affected my world as I grew, and I remain attuned to that. I'm sensitive to them. I avoid them, even as they ping loudly on my radar. And I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I don't want to live in a world ruled by them. I'm not even comfortable having them near me.

Which brings me to see that my whole life has had 'fear' as a focal point. It's why I've struggled with Cate and writing erotic stories. Why breaking from society's bounds has caused me such grief. It's not been grief, it's been fear. I may not be jumping out of a plane to conquer my fear of heights...it's much worse, I'm stepping outside of the box, not knowing where someone might scold me, rouse on me, ostracise me, abuse me, point me out. All those things I feared as a child are coming up again. All those things that as a child I hid from and avoided were brought to the surface during Tony Abbot's Prime Ministerial stint even though I didn't truly understand my reaction to the climate.

And this is how books affect me. A seemingly innocent book opened up a whole load of baggage I needed to unpack.

This is also why I love books. Who knew that a story, a memoir, could pack such a punch!

Thanks for a fabulously insightful read, Malcolm Turnbull.

How do books affect you? Have you read A Bigger Picture?

Random Musings

Do you ever pose a random question into the ether... and the world comes back with an answer that bites you on the arse?

Yep, it happened to me. Right here.

In this post way back in January (another lifetime ago!) I asked the question about anarchy and whether humans were capable of living from their heart and caring for others.

And hello COVID-19 with its toilet paper, hand santiser, paper towel, disinfectant wars. With the parties on beaches, in colleges, political leaders who don't think it's real, the blame game being played, people attacking others for what they judge as 'wrong'.

OMG Do I have my answer!?

Anarchy is my utopia. It's not something that can work. People are ingrained to live within a tight framework of rules and they'll obey them (on the whole) when they're put in place and reasons given. Some people are kind and caring, taking only their share and leaving enough for others. While there are some who don't think of others and satisfy only themselves.

And, just so you know and I'm upfront, I wasn't asking for a global pandemic to answer my question. I was just musing out loud (or on the keyboard) and it was a theoretical question. I really didn't need an actual answer, and I certainly didn't need to see humanity at its worst... but it is lovely to see some of the best of humanity.

Take care in this crazy time. Wash your hands. Stay at home. Take care of yourself and those around you. Hang tight and try to be the best human you can be. That's what I'm telling myself many times a day!

Cate xo

Weird Wednesday - Pockets of Joy

Sometimes things happen in the strangest way.

We've had a hell of a lot of bushfires in Australia this spring-summer, which I'm sure you know about. Although my little village wasn't affected, quite a huge proportion of the area around me was burnt. I was really struggling with the loss of lives, the widespread destruction, the uselessness I felt, and the horror of it all.

I hate feeling like that, and I know I can spiral into negative thought loops that just drag me down and down and down. So I needed to do something to kick me out of that...and I thought it might help others too.

So I dug through some old photos and took some new ones, and began putting them on Facebook, and sometimes Instagram. I called them Pockets of Joy. Sometimes you can't find joy in everything, you've just got to find a tiny piece.

You know I take weird photos if you follow Wildlife Wednesday, and people seemed to enjoy that quirky view I sometimes pick up. I kept putting photos up, each day throughout January.

At some stage a few friends started saying I should make a book. That they'd buy it. Someone even said they'd buy copies for gifts.

And on the January long weekend, I remained at home (on fire watch) while family went away. I was planning on a huge writing weekend...yet, I found myself collating photos, creating a book. I spent 2 blissful days creating. I sent it to a couple of people, got some feedback, kept fiddling and creating.

It's been an absolute pleasure to create this. I love playing with the photos that make me smile. I've even enjoyed culling and swapping and changing book sizes and shape. I have draft after draft after draft. More feedback.

This is what I have so far...it's not the final product...just the latest draft. An A5 sized book that I hope I can print in an affordable way so Pockets of Joy is available for anyone to buy.

And maybe if it's not exorbitant, I can get extra copies and drop them down the coast into bushfire affected towns to give people a pick-me-up.

So...not the usual Cate thing...but not so weird either.

I'll let you know when it's available! And I'll show some sample pages. Stay tuned!

Wildlife Wednesday - sea foam

Okay, so I'm making a bit of a stretch today because sea foam is hardly wildlife...but it's something that has me a bit fascinated, and repulsed.

The ocean has always fascinated me. As a kid I loved swimming and mostly swam in a salt water pool, our local pool. We lived near a river, holidayed on a river, and spent days at ocean beaches. So water is a big part of all my childhood memories.

I moved inland when I finished uni, which took me away from the water I knew, but I discovered inland waterways that were equally fascinating (even if the fish tasted muddy!). But now I've moved back to the coast and I live right near a river, and right near the beach. So it's perfect for remembering great days as a kid.

But I've no memory of sea foam!

We probably never went to the beach after bad weather because when we went to the beach we went to swim. But living near the beach, I try to go whatever the weather, and it's not all about swimming any more.

After rough and/or stormy weather, we have tonnes of sea foam. It's like a dirty detergent. It makes the bottom of my feet dirtier than usual, and the top gets a gooey kind of film on it...and depending how high those pesky waves hit me, it can go right up my legs!

So what is sea foam?

Sea foam, also called spume, is caused by turbulence in sea water, particularly if the sea water has a lot of dissolved organic matter in it. Dissolved organic matter can come naturally from the breakdown of algae and other sea life, but more likely from man-made sources such as stormwater run-off and ocean spills. Stormwater run-off can contain lots of plant material, like dead leaves, plants that have washed away from river banks or gutters, as well as more commonly thought of pollutants, like excess detergents and fertilisers.

So the presence of sea foam after storms or rough conditions is 'natural' because the sea has to be churned up to create it - which is what happens in storms/rough conditions.

On my beach, the sea foam generally only lasts a day or so after the storms have passed. It's all the other rubbish tossed up onto the beach that lasts a lot longer! Mostly I pick up a few bits and pieces of rubbish on the beach, but after a week of storms, you have to take a garbage bag and still you'd hardly make a dint in the rubbish.

My greatest fear is that we're slowly killing our planet, and we don't give a damn so long as our life is 'easy' with all the mod cons. I've no idea how I can change that. As one person I do the best I can, but to function in society, it's very difficult to stick to a simple life. I add to the abundance of sea foam...and that annoys me.

Having a Rant - State of Origin Game 1

I need to vent today, so skip this post if you've no interest in football - rugby league - state of origin - me ranting!

Last night's game had me fuming. Absolutely ashamed to be a Blue. Why? Because some of the players on the Blues team have egos that are far huger than their abilities. For years I've thought this, but last night blew my mind. If I was choosing the state side, for either team, some of the guys in that game would not be there, would never even be considered. I know footballers, or any sports people at the elite level, need egos. You don't get to the top without a healthy dose of self-worth...but when you're combining into a team, egos have to match ability and, to a certain extent, be left at the door.

Queensland seem to be able to do this. NSW rarely.

Is this a sign of the coaching? The attitude around the teams? The players chosen themselves? The captains? The history of each team?

Yes. For all those questions.

As a spectator, I can only look and interpret what I see. I know I'm a little one-eyed sometimes, and I'm rather opinionated, and my opinions rarely match the masses. But here's my opinion, cos it's my blog and I need to express my fury!

Qld has a wealth of highly decorated players in their team. There are a handful of club captains in their roster. As we've heard all build up, the Qld team is 'old' which means most of the guys have earned their reputations by what they do on the football field. On paper, these guys should have huge personality clashes...there are some big reputations in that team...but that doesn't seem to happen. They function like a team, work together by doing their job and somehow that gels.

NSW...gees, where do I start? Let me start with Pearce or Farah, because I would never have them in an elite team, yet they keep being chosen. Neither are imaginative players. I don't see any evidence of a brilliant footy brain in either of these guys. They don't seem to read the play as quickly as I expect they should, especially when it's not a set play. They're left scrambling, in the wrong place, doing the wrong thing, no longer in control of the game they should be controlling. Pearce's kicking game last night was incredibly boring. Why would you kick time and again down Billy Slater's throat? He drops what, a ball in 10 games? It made very little impact except to give the ball back to Qld. Yet he kept doing it. Some of the commentators even thought it was brilliant because it was testing Billy's shoulder - except there was no evidence that Billy Slater had a shoulder issue. Was Pearce/Daley a victim of the Qld media campaign?

Fair enough Farah was injured in the first half, probably badly, but no one helped out at the dummy half role. No one came in and said to the skipper, I'll give this a go while you take a bit of a breather - even for a set, or half a set. What happened to the halves? Neither of them think to help out? Look at Qld...their hooker gets a breather, and got quite a few last night, which lets him complete 80 minutes at a high work rate still thinking at the end of the game.

And the bit that had me fuming for hours...what happened to taking the field goal? Three times they set themselves up with Hodgkinson in place ready to drill it. And what happened? The ball ended up in other people's hands. Why? Who the f*ck knows. Certainly at the end of the game Pearce had no idea - yet he's supposedly one of the freaking playmakers. Farah, the other playmaker, didn't seem to know what was happening. Is this because he slogs himself through every game and by the end is out on his feet with no blood getting to his brain, so nothing happens in the thinking department. He's unimaginative at the best of times but appalling towards the end of the game, more so last night when he may have been in pain as well as exhausted. Hodkinson, another of the playmakers, was in his position and so not available to set the plays...does that mean he was the only one who knew what was going on out there?And did he know, or was he playing his own game? Did he call for the field goal, or just stand there and think it was happening?

Yes, I'm hammering the halves and the hooker. But they're the guys who have to set the plays, steer the team around, have a brain, and work the ball to suit the team's plans. The forwards were firing. The backline, on one side at least, was firing, yet in the centre where everything is supposed to happen...they were so far from firing. It was appalling. Absolutely appalling.

There will be loads of excuses - again. There are even people who think these guys had brilliant games but I disagree. Look at the respective positions in Qld and look at the possession stats. NSW's defence stopped the score line from being a disgrace but defence is only half the game. Until NSW can function in attack, they will never win.

NSW did not deserve to win last night. They don't deserve to win until they can play like a team. 13 individuals is useless out there because no one knows what's going on. A forward pack and a backline that works, is hopeless without playmakers who can make plays.

Qld function. NSW don't.

And that makes me ashamed of being a Blue.

Wildlife Wednesday - moth

I have another moth today. It was on a deck chair that was stacked up in the backyard. When I moved one to go soak up some sunshine, this stunning moth was hiding between the chairs. Beautiful isn't it?

We have a moth today because of the Naughty Ninjas. This is a bunch of writers who have wacky senses of humour and we seem to spur each other into silliness.

Anyway, over the past week, we've been talking about shifter erotic romance...because those are the things we talk about! But really, the conversation started from a Submission Call that captured Rhyll's attention. You can find the call here...but it was all about Strange Shifters.

So a few of us have been inspired by craziness and have been writing. You'll never guess what shifter type my story went to ... no, not a moth, but a butterfly!

Sometimes I do wonder about my mind. It's not quite right yet - the story, my mind is long gone crazy! - so it will take some tweaking to get the right vibe. But I think I need to thank my Wildlife Wednesday posts for giving me a range of animals to turn into shifters :)

If my shifter butterfly ever sees the light of day, you will be the first to hear :) Long live the moths and butterflies!

Sunday Story - reliving memories

Last Sunday, Mother's Day, Mr E and I took his mother to watch the footy. This was odd (and a little evil on my part) because their team wasn't playing on the Sunday, mine was...against the team of my favourite player. So we went to that game. I felt strange because they were coming to something I wanted to go to...and I felt a bit evil for perving when with hubby and his Mum...and I felt like a meanie taking her to the footy on Mother's day...but I think it worked out okay.

I spent a lot of my teenage weekends at the footy, many times at this ground. I used to go with a friend and sometimes my sister(s). I'd hang around outside the dressing rooms to get autographs. I had my huge flag to wave wildly. When we were old enough, we'd go back to the club after the game and gather more autographs and have our hearts all aflutter if we met a player. I was innocent and naive back then...getting an autograph was my thrill. These guys were my heroes.

I know when I was writing Deep Diving, I banged on a lot about my favourite player who had inspired the story. I watched him play a lot to fuel my imagination to get that story written. I still watch him, avidly. But I made a huge discovery...

When you're reliving your youth, at the footy ground of your team, it's very difficult to cheer for another player, watch another player, or perv too much.

My blood raced when a try was scored by my team right in front of us. I was on my feet screaming and shouting. That Coops was right there, close, took a while to dawn on me. So long that I didn't get a lot of photos of him. I probably have equal numbers of photos of him and Parramatta players.

I didn't think that would be possible. But the ghosts of many games past, many players past, and my Parra jersey that is older than most of the guys playing, all led me to screaming crazily for my team. And enjoying every second of it :)

And to add to the reliving the memories component, I took my old film camera with the telephoto lens. And I did remember to take photos of Coops...I just have to wait for the film to develop to see if I got any good ones. Oh, and some Parra players snuck on there too!! And in case you were wondering, Mr E wouldn't let me hang around outside the dressing rooms to get autographs!

Have you ever relived 'old' places and events?

The Power of Herbs

Do you believe in herbal medicine? Would you ever use herbs as a cure or part of a cure?

I'm a believer. I don't shun western medicine but I use alternative therapies too. Seven years ago I contracted Ross River Fever from a mosquito (darn thing!) and have never fully recovered. Western medicine has no way of coping with this, or helping me to cope, so I rely on alternative therapies.

Anyway, the past few weeks I've had no voice, not really a cold just a virus attack. So I went to see my herbalist (is that what they're called? I have no idea what to call her, she's just Joy!) and she gave me Fenugreek and Poke Root.

I laughed, out loud. Poke Root? It's too funny a name... and for me... even funnier.

Anyway, after 5 days of Fenugreek and Poke Root, my voice is returning and I feel more alive. Last year when I didn't go to see her and had the same no-voice-thing, it took me six weeks to recover (actually, I did go to her in the end, she gave me peppermint and I got better, but I wasn't sure it cured me).

Thank goodness for Poke Root and Fenugreek and herbal remedies. I couldn't live without them.

Old Dogs and New tricks

I learned something through the week - something I thought I could do but I learned that I'd sucked at it! Not good for the ego... but when you re-learn something and get it right - Holy Toledo! It's fun. Damn fun.

But you have to have the right teacher. I'm lucky, I did.

To learn (or re-learn) you need someone with infinite patience, who's interested in the teaching and not only in the outcome, who can articulate so you understand, and someone with a sense of humour.

If I couldn't laugh at my mistakes I'd be in a very bad way!

My teacher is the best. My skills have improved. And now all I need is more practise.

Life can be very good :)

Are Moustaches Sexy?

It's Movember. A time when we "celebrate" moustaches as a reminder of men's health and a fundraiser for prostate cancer.

But are moustaches sexy?

When I was a kid (in the 1970s) moustaches were sexy. The Australian cricket team had the very sexy Dennis Lillee with his famous moustache. But hair was in then - big chest hair with gold chains.

Have we changed?

These days we're more likely to see models waxed and buffed than sporting chest hair. Models go for the sexy look of the 5 o'clock shadow, rather than a full beard.

I'm not a mo fan, myself, but I did kiss a mo that I enjoyed a long time ago. I thought I wouldn't like it but was surprised at how appealing that tickle was.

I'm writing some moustache kisses for Movember. You can find them here at Mo-Ro.

But let me give you a taste:

Day 7 - November 6

It’s two o’clock and so far my day’s been kiss- and caterpillar-free. We’ve been busy and I like busy days, they go more quickly. Another hour and we’ll watch the Melbourne Cup and have afternoon tea, barring customers who don’t know that Australia stops for a horse race.

My boss hovers behind me while I serve the last customer. When they leave, he clears his throat. Turning around I hold back a groan. The next wanna-be caterpillar is lined up waiting. It’s fluffy and a truly poor excuse for six days growth.

I brush a kiss on him that has him jumping back and sucking air. My technique didn’t suck that badly. Maybe I zapped him with static.

“Hello, Officers,” he mumbles.

I turn to the counter and there’s Dutch and Mo from Saturday night.

“How can we help you?” My boss asks the question for the very first time. He never works at the counter much less helps anyone.

Dutch answers. “My partner here’s after another kiss but looks like you beat him.”

Mo flushes a dark pink and no doubt I’m a matching hue.

“No. I came to pay. I assume I have to pay for the kiss.” Mo’s even redder, if that’s possible.

I point to the donations bucket at the end of the cashier’s desk and walk there with Mo on the other side of the divide. When we get there I lean on the counter so I won’t be overheard. “You didn’t need to come in to pay.”

“I wanted to.” He glances down for a long heartbeat before looking up directly at me. “I hoped to find out who you are.”

My heart jumps before taking up a faster pace. “Briana Malton.”

“I’m Mark Bridgetine.”

“Hi Mark. It suits you better than Mo. I’m sorry about that.” I give him my best apologetic smile.

“I’m not.” Mark has a charming smile that makes his pale green eyes sparkle. My breath catches.

“C’mon Casanova,” Dutch calls. When I glance to him, a couple of customers have walked in.

“Will you be at the pub Saturday night?” Mark asks.

I’d really like to say yes, super quickly but that will appear way too eager and pathetic. So I play it cool. “I usually end up there.” My cheeks are hurting from the smile that may burst off my face.

“I hope to see you there. I could save a kiss, if you need one.”

The thought of kissing him again sends tingles through me, even if his moustache is thickening. I nod, vigorously, betraying my attempted cool demeanour.

He leaves and I go back to work. There are too many days until Saturday.

Twenty four kisses to go. And one I’m definitely looking forward to.